The Dreadful Tale of Prosper Redding (The Dreadful Tale of Prosper Redding #1)(17)

Which, to Grandmonster, was probably a fate worse than death.

Uncle Barnabas’s face went pink around the edges at that. “How…imaginative.”

I got a good look at him in the silence that followed. Barnabas had a long thin nose that was at odds with the rest of the family line. Thick eyebrows. High cheekbones, a square jaw dusted with the beginning of a pale, scratchy beard. Me and Prue were in no way identical, but it was a little surprising that Uncle Barnabas was so different from Dad. Not just in the way they looked, but the way they carried themselves. Percy—Dad—had several inches on his brother, dark hair, and the same brown eyes as me. He had a natural confidence to him that, in comparison, made this guy look like he was walking around with an army of fire ants in his underwear.

But I had only gotten a quick look at the picture in Granddad Redding’s study. This guy…It could be Uncle Barnabas. It had to be.

“If he’s him,” I began, turning to look at Nell, “who are you?”

She opened her mouth, but Barnabas was faster. “Nell is my daughter. She and I…recently became acquainted after her mother’s sad passing.”

I was glad I was looking at Nell when he said that. The smug expression on her face seemed to dissolve into one of pure pain. It vanished just as fast, but it had been there.

Of course she was upset. She lost her mom. What was worse than that? I hadn’t seen my mom in three days and I missed her—I couldn’t imagine never seeing her again.

Toad began to weave between her feet, as if trying to soothe her.

“All right,” I said, “but what am I doing here?”

Uncle Barnabas nodded in Nell’s direction, and a strange looked passed between them. Some kind of silent communication. Without a word, she stood and went toward the beds, hopping up on one to pull down the large Redding family tree.

“With stories like these, it’s best to start at the very beginning,” Uncle Barnabas said. “Tell me, Prosperity, what do you know about the family curse?”





“I know that she was born in 1945, despises puppies, and enjoys trying to kill her grandchildren with daggers in dungeons.”

Uncle Barnabas stared long enough that I started thinking he’d inherited Grandmother’s No Laughing Unless It’s at Other People’s Pain gene.

Then his face broke out into a huge grin. He laughed from deep in his belly, shaking the couch. Beside him Nell just crossed her arms and stared at the wall.

“Nice of you to take this seriously,” she muttered. “But what did I expect? You are a Redding.”

“Got your old man’s sense of humor, I see,” Uncle Barnabas said, snorting.

And pretty much nothing else, I thought, feeling a little miserable. As if to echo the thought, the breeze from the window rattled the bottles on the shelf, making them chatter and shiver. I crossed my arms over my chest, struggling to get the words out. “My mom and dad—they don’t know where I am! They don’t know what happened!”

You have to get your sister and get out of the Cottage right now!

I couldn’t even do that. I pressed my face to my hands, ignoring the hot stinging in my eyes. They were going to be so mad at me. If anything happened to Prue…I would never forgive myself.

Uncle Barnabas put a warm, comforting hand on my shoulder.

“They’re aware you’re with me and that you’re safe,” he said.

“You don’t know that,” I said, pulling back and trying to stand. “I don’t know you, you don’t know me—I don’t even know if anything you’re saying is the truth!”

“You don’t remember me, Prosperity, but I remember you. Even when you were a baby, I’d come to Redhood to catch a glimpse of you from afar. The last time I did it was a few days before Christmas when you were five.” He spoke softly, his hand tightening on my shoulder. “I brought your sister a set of books and you a paint set. I had to leave them outside, because I was too nervous to try coming in, and, anyway, you were all at the hospital with your sister.”

“That was you?” I asked, shocked. I had found the paint set a few years later while rummaging through a supply closet. There had still been a large red-and-green ribbon on it, along with a gift tag with my name. For whatever reason, maybe knowing it had come from Dad’s brother, my parents had kept it instead of tossing it like I’m sure Grandmonster would have wanted.

Uncle Barnabas nodded, smiling gently. He turned toward the girl. “Cor—Nell, would you be so kind as to get the letter?”

She stared at him for a moment, confused. Toad had wandered off and nestled in one of the open armoire drawers, chewing idly on the herbs growing there. At that, he let out a loud purr, his tail pointing repeatedly at the desk. It was only then, when Toad’s wings started fluttering and Uncle Barnabas had no reaction to it, that I remembered what Nell said about normal people not being able to see through…what did she call them? Glamours?

So—that made CatBat a secret, I guessed. When the man looked at him, I wondered if he saw only a tiny black cat.

Nell let out a small noise in her throat and nodded, venturing over to the desk. She dug through the rolled-up scrolls, the books with their warped pages, until she pulled out an envelope and retrieved a letter inside. When she thrust it at my face, she didn’t even meet my eyes.